Double Date
by seriousish
Summary: The circumstances leading to Regina and Emma's foursome with Myka and HG were many and varied. They started with the fact that HG had begun dating a fairy tale princess named Giselle...
1. Chapter 1

A quick stop-off in Baltimore to collect Edgar Allen Poe's stuffed raven—obvious, that one—and before Pete knew it, he and Myka were on a double-date with HG and Giselle.

Pete generally thought Myka and HG were a bit like him and the Browns—he hated them until he liked them. Sometimes, Myka went all in with HG, phoning her, Skyping with her, writing super-long snail-mail letters to her _by hand, _even playing those Facebook games with her. And then sometimes it was like they were quarantining themselves. Once, Myka had spent an entire date on the phone with HG because she'd found a new amino acid or something. Another time, she'd spent an entire date _not _talking about HG, which you would think would be like an entire date where the topic of HG Wells didn't come up: not so.

Now, in HG's swanky pad on Aliceanna Street, Myka and her were getting along famously; HG only taking a break from hearing about Myka's ongoing revision of the Warehouse manual to talk about her Kickstarter project. DNA. That was all Pete understood of it. With him and HG's date pretty much shut out of the conversation, he looked across the table at Giselle. With her huge blue eyes, her cute upturned nose, and her vibrant red hair, she reminded him of that actress. What was her name? Oh yeah, Isla Fisher.

"You know, one of my squirrels says it's going to be a very cold winter," Giselle said. "Do you have enough winter clothes? I'm sure I could make you a nice cape if you don't already have one."

"No, I'm fine on capes," Pete told her. "Wait—your squirrels?"

"Yes. Mr. Deathurge. He's collecting a lot of nuts."

"Mr. Deathurge."

"Oh yes. Squirrels are much more bloody-minded here than they are in Andulasia. They're not as bad as geese, though. I don't know who taught the geese such vile language…"

Pete nodded along. "So, how did you two meet?"

"Craigslist. I have a thing for hasty, poorly thought out relationships and Helena was looking for one. See, first I was going to marry Prince Edward, but I'd only known him a day. Then I was going to marry Robert—I knew him for a week—but then things just got weird. We disagreed about things, there were things he liked that I didn't and things _I liked _that _he didn't… _it was just a mess!"

"That… sounds pretty standard, really."

"That's what Helena says. Something about a honeymoon phase and, honestly, who can understand her when she talks about scientific gobbledygook like that? But the point is, I realized this whole thing of staying with one person your whole life is unrealistic, when instead you can just share true love with anyone for a couple of days or even a single night, then move on!"

Pete sighed. Where were girls like this when he was in high school? "Not sure that's really any more realistic."

"Oh, it is! I've seen several movies about it."

"Not sure James Bond movies count."

"No, I mean pornos."

"Ah. So…" Pete briefly glanced at Myka and Helena, who were discussing something so animatedly that their gestures looked like sign language. "You and HG—you're just gonna up and quit on her someday?"

"When true love's run its course, yes. After all, it'd be rather selfish to insist we stay together when we don't feel the same way about each other, just because we get along alright." She glanced at his plate. "Oh, have you finished your plate?"

"Yes ma'am!"

"Seconds?"

"Nah, I'm full."

"There's a first," HG said. She and Myka giggled together.

"Hey, I'm getting on in years. Need to watch that the ol' spare tire doesn't get too inflated. This one loves the pecs, eh?" He grabbed Myka in a noogie. "Eh? Eh?"

"Pete, c'mon, you're mussing my hair." She slipped free of him, then looked to HG. "Sorry about him."

"Don't apologize for me—what's that noise?"

Giselle was calling out like a Ricola commercial. A moment later, a swarm of gerbils slid from the walls, circled up the table, and carried off Pete's plate and utensils. The swarm headed for the kitchen, bearing their dishes like a very small Viking war party's loot.

"Did that just happen or did I fall asleep watching Ratatouille again?" Pete asked.

"We run a small animal shelter," HG said, "and Giselle talks to animals."

Everyone was speechless save for Giselle. "I'll tell them you said thanks."

"Helena," Myka began, "where did you say Giselle was from again?"

"Oh, I'm from Andalasia originally, then I fell through a magic portal to New York, then I broke up with Robert and went to stay with my mother, then an evil queen cast a spell that transported us all to a town called Storybrooke, where I fell through another magic portal and ended up here!"

"And where's Storybrooke, exactly?"

"A mystical, magical land named Maine!"

* * *

After dinner, HG broke out the opium while Giselle washed up. They could hear her singing a happy working song through the kitchen wall.

"Care for some?" Helena asked, holding the pipe out to Myka. "I had some rather lovely times in Rome thanks to the stuff."

"No, HG, we would not like any hash!" Myka's eyes were doing the thing again. It looked like she and HG were on the verge of another communications black-out. "You're dating a fairy tale princess and you didn't think to tell us?"

"Well, I am a time-traveling inventor from the 1800s. Her thing didn't seem so odd in comparison."

"_She talks to animals!"_

"And she's very cute," HG pointed out.

Myka looked at Pete incredulously.

"This might not be that helpful," he told her, "but booty do be bangin'."

"Pete! Don't call other women attractive while you're dating me!"

"What? I was agreeing with Helena!"

"You don't have to agree vehemently!"

"I wasn't being vehement—HG, help me out here." He reached a hand out to here. "You're dating Giselle; would she mind if you said Myka was banging?"

Helena was taken aback. "I can't think of any circumstances in which I would say Myka was banging. And as for the other concern, Giselle has nothing to do with Artifacts or the Warehouse, so I don't see how I'm under any obligation to inform you as to her status. Unless you want to be kept in the loop for everything weird I encounter."

"Maybe we do!" Myka said stridently.

"Alright—there's this thing called a remix and it seems to be someone taking a snippet of one song's lyrics and playing it repeatedly, several times, in a row, and then people listen to this for pleasure?" Helena shrugged.

"You know what we mean!"

"I know you handle Artifacts, Eureka handles fringe science, the DCIS handles Alphas—under whose purview do fairy tales fall?"

Myka's arms were crossed with the old fire. She'd never lost a jurisdictional turf war before and she didn't intend to now. "Ours. I'm claiming it. We're going to Storybrooke and we're checking the place out and if they have any Artifacts lying around, they'd just better watch out!"

Giselle poked her head into the room with a Zip-Loc bag. "Does anyone want leftovers?"

"Maybe," Pete replied. "The gerbils didn't help make any of those, did they?"

"They did! They were very helpful!"

Myka looked suddenly under the weather. Pete hesitated. Then took the bag.

* * *

They drove in two cars. Pete, Myka, HG, and Giselle all piled into the sedan, with Claudia and Jinks in the Prius to meet up with them en route. Myka turned on the radio, flipping through the dial for a second before stopping at Nicki Minaj.

"Hey, princess," she called back, "rap songs don't make your head explode, do they?"

"I enjoy all artistic endeavors," Giselle reported, "even the ones about people's genitalia."

"Yeah, well, I don't," Pete said, reaching for the dial. "They got any classic rock in this state?"

Myka slapped his hand away. "Leave it," she told him. "It wouldn't do you any harm to expand your cultural awareness."

"Of what, the 90s? I was there, and Baby Got Back was a much better song then."

"With much less feminist empowerment."

"Feminist. Pah. That really what you want to call it?"

Myka leaned against her car door to look at him. "What would you call it?"

"Trend-whoring. You really gonna call Nicki Minaj a feminist when her album cover shows more skin than an issue of Maxim?"

"What's wrong with showing a little skin?"

"That's not what you said the last time I went to the comic store."

"There's a difference between Catwoman being drawn with her zipper halfway down her vagina by some man and Nicki Minaj choosing to be photographed a certain way!"

"You don't think some record label guy or manager is saying 'hey, Nicki, let's put a picture of your ass on the CD! All the guys will buy it cuz it's an ass, and all the ladies will buy it because they think it's sooooo feminist.'"

"So you don't think Nicki Minaj is feminist, just because she showed her ass?"

"I don't think Nicki Minaj is feminist because she works with rapists."

"Oh, how much control do you really think she has in the industry, that she can avoid anyone who's controversial—"

"You just said she had enough control to put her ass on the album, which apparently the Patriarchy hated, because it was so damn feminist—"

"It's a woman taking pride in her appearance!"

"So you would buy a poster of that? Since it's just a woman enjoying her own appearance?"

"Yes, I would! I have an aesthetic appreciation!"

"Well, that explains what you and HG were doing back in the day. Just enjoying each other's aesthetics!"

Myka growled. "I would punch you in the shoulder _right now _if I didn't know you'd get off on it!"

"It's not that hot, _just like you!" _Pete pulled to the side of the road, leaving the tires as balding as William Shatner, and got out of the car. "There! You drive! Since I know how much you like being in control all the time!"

Myka threw herself into the driver's seat. "And I know how much you hate a woman being in control!"

"Go on then! I'll get a ride from Claudia, who manages to combine being a feminist with _having a sense of humor!"_

"Fine!"

"Fine!" Pete walked away, drawing his cell phone from his pocket.

Helena put a consoling hand on Myka's shoulder. Giselle looked between them, and to Pete, aghast, then got out of the car.

"Giselle?" Helena called.

"You go ahead. Someone should keep him company."

"You're sure?"

"It's fine. You and Myka should be alone, anyway. She is your best friend."

"Okay," Helena said uncertainly. Myka revved the engine before taking off, leaving Pete and Giselle in the middle of the forest they'd been driving through. Pete quickly confirmed that Jinks and Claudia would be along the same road in an hour or so, then snapped his phone shut. He resisted the urge to throw it against the nearest tree. Instead, he found a fallen log and sat down heavily.

Giselle sat down with him. "Are you and Myka going to get a divorce?"


	2. Chapter 2

Emma didn't like the round table. It was cheesy, for one thing, and while she knew how important it was symbolically to convert the mayor's office into something better reflecting Storybrooke's leadership—actually taking it away from Regina gave her the same queasy feeling as spending time with Henry had when Regina was _right there _but shut out from him. Like she was taking something that didn't belong to her. Funny thing for a thief to mind…

Still, she didn't mind sitting next to Mary-Margaret, David, and Regina. It was like a concentrated dose of _not-alone _that she could always use, especially with Hook being—

Mary-Margaret rapped her dagger's hilt on the table. "This emergency session of the ruling council is called to order. We have received verified reports from the bluebirds that outsiders are at the town barrier, and they are employing some form of magic to both detect and penetrate our shielding."

"Not a great reason to say 'penetrate'," Emma noted.

Mary-Margaret shot her a look. "If anyone would like to make a _serious _remark?"

Regina lifted her head. She'd had her hands flat on the table, her head down like she was half asleep. "They're probably friends of Emma's. After all, it's at least possible they're here to kiss Robin Hood, so who else but Emma would bring them here?"

David was on Regina's other side. "You could stand to let that—are you drunk?"

"I have a flask. I use it. What do you want from me? I think it's a bit late for me to qualify for sainthood."

"You went out for one week!" Emma argued. "His wife, the mother of his child, came back to life! What did you expect? Some weird love triangle?"

"I expected kisses! And foot rubs!"

Mary-Margaret cut in. "Regina, please. We're all very sorry for Emma's mistake—"

"Don't take her side!" Emma interjected.

"Altering the timelineeeeeeee," Regina said, sing-song.

"David, would you please get her to sober up?"

"Sure." David stood, putting his hands on Regina's shoulder. "C'mon, your majesty. Let's see if we can find some hot coffee and cold water."

Regina went limp. "Robin loved cold water!" she sobbed.

David dragged her out of the room.

"So!" Mary-Margaret said brightly. "About the outsiders. Do we have enough room at Granny's to house them all?"

"Wait, we're doing the masquerade thing?" Emma asked. "We tried that with Greg, remember? Didn't go so well."

"What do you recommend, Emma? Being bad hosts?"

"Yeah. Once we've got Regina sobered up, we meet them at the edge of town and ask them what they want."

Mary-Margaret looked concerned; a well-practiced look for her. "And you want Regina for this plan? She's…"

"If we do need to, y'know, zap 'em, Regina should get to be in on that. It'll cheer her up."

* * *

A smattering of Storybrooke's young and able had gathered where the outsiders were attempting to breach. Invisible due to the shielding, they had pulled up in pick-ups and cars, forming a barricade under Emma's direction. Now, armed with crossbows, guns, and assorted blades, they waited behind cover.

"You're looking better."

Regina was clad all in black, one of her lace and leather outfits that dated to the Enchanted Forest. Her eyes were clear and sharp, while her make-up—as always—was on point. She looked over Emma with customary dissatisfaction.

"I know a spell to dispense with the effects of alcohol."

"Could've used _that _in college."

"Or last Friday, when it seemed Hook lost the use of his tongue and you were so generous in loaning him yours…"

"I can't have flings? Only guys can have flings?"

"You can have a fling, sure. I personally would prefer a fling who changes his clothes once in a while…"

"Yeah, well, at least he doesn't have to worry about wearing white after Labor Day."

The rest of Storybrooke was gathered inside the school auditorium like there was a hurricane bearing down on them, with Gold, Mother Superior, and Tink ready to use their magic as a last line of defense. Emma wasn't cruel enough to inflict Rumpelstiltskin on someone right off the bat.

Mary-Margaret and David were there as well, watching Neal and Henry. Emma almost winced at the necessity of packing the town's children into a big metal box to protect them, but she remembered the last school shooting on the news. People had plenty to worry about on the outside as well. At least here, she could do something about the crazy shit in her life.

Though she favored her pistol, Emma reached down to check the slide of the sheathed sword at her hip. She could and damn well would do something.

On the other side of the dome, the outsiders were using magical objects—taking them out of sealed containers, trying them on the forcefield, then replacing them with a blast of neutralizing energy. The trunk of their car seemed to furnish an endless supply of magic. It seemed certain one would be able to get through.

"At least they're cute," Ruby reasoned, looking over the sharp lines of the outsiders' suits—though one wore the punkish clothes of Emma's teen years. "Nice wheels, too."

"Ruby, you wanna bitch up?" Emma asked.

"Sure," Ruby said, hastily stripping.

"That's a sensitive thing to call it," Regina said wryly.

"What can I say? Kids these days. If they're not using the N-word… you thinking of lowering the shield deliberately?"

"I don't like waiting," Regina confirmed, then was temporarily distracted by the sight of Ruby nude before the werewolf shifted forms. "We can always bring it back up—and I'll enjoy the looks on their faces."

"Alright then. Do it."

Regina gave Emma a smile that mixed hot and cold inside the blonde, then stepped out from behind the vehicles. "Uh, Reg?" Emma called, jerking her head in a silent request to take shelter.

"Please," Regina replied, and brought the shield down.

* * *

To Pete and Myka, it was as if a mob of people, five motor vehicles, and a distant town just appeared in front of them. Led by a woman who was going as Angelina Jolie in Maleficent for Halloween.

"Who are you?" she demanded, an outstretched hand bursting into flames. "What do you want? And why shouldn't I kill right now?"

Pete nodded. The usual welcome, then. "Let me do the talking," he said to Myka under his breath.

"Yeah, you're good at it," she replied snidely.

He rolled his eyes as he went to see about Bellatrix Lestrange. "Hi there. Pete Lattimer, big fan. Tall glass of water back there is Myka Bering, with her is heterosexual life partner Helena, and we've also got Jinks and Claudia back there, the girl is the one with the girl's name. We've also got Giselle somewhere around here—"

"Hello old friends!" Giselle burst from the backseat of one car to reunite with the townspeople, who'd long ago assumed she'd been killed by someone and stopped worrying about her.

Pete ignored her running by. "We're from the government and we're here to help."

The woman lowered her hand, extinguishing it in the process. "Well, I don't see you posing much of a threat."

"Hunh. That line has never worked for me before." Pete glanced at her smoldering hand. "Doesn't that hurt?"

Myka was rushing up to join them, Helena trailing behind her protectively, ready to draw the Tesla she'd been loaned. "_Agent _Lattimer and I are with the Secret Service-"

"You can call me Pete," he interjected. "Or Peter, the Petester, Pete-meister… hey, Mykes, think we should bother with the whole 'do you smell fudge?' stuff?"

"Well, not now that you've said 'do we need to bother with having a cover,' I should think," said HG.

"They had a forcefield. Her hand was on fire." He regarded Regina again. "That really didn't hurt?"

Another woman, a blonde in a sporty red jacket and tight jeans that Myka would love to fit into—in a—fashion-y—way—of course. She was coming up to the group, holstering a sidearm. "Emma Swan. Sheriff. I'm guessing you're not here about taxes."

"We don't pay them," the other woman said, as if daring them to contradict her.

"Well, I know where I'm retiring," said Pete.

"Regina Mills," Emma introduced. "She's sort of our mayor. "

"Charmed." Helena reached out to take Regina's hand, which she had offered as a sarcastic gesture, and brought it suavely to her lips.

"Okay," Pete said. "Yeah. She does that. Myka, you wanna tell 'em why we're here?"

"Me?"

"It was your idea."

"You can't explain what we do?"

"Honestly, I lost track around the time we went to a parallel universe. Now I just say 'snag bag and tag!" when I'm prompted. I had a public school education."

"It doesn't show," Myka informed him. "Ms. Swan, Ms. Mills—"

"Correct," Regina interrupted, her eyes fixed on Helena's. "We're not married—Emma especially so…"

Emma's hands went to her hips. "We're gonna keep being here all day if people who aren't me keep trying to be funny. Bering, go ahead, _no interruptions." _She gave Regina a look that broadened to include Pete.

Myka cleared her throat, feeling like she was about to give a book report. "We do work for the government—in affiliation with the government, I should say—for an organization that finds, retrieves, and stores Artifacts. For lack of a better word, they're magic—ordinary objects imbued with psychic power to cause… effects. Like a lucky charm that is really lucky. Unfortunately, they all have a downside, so we store them for the safety of the general public until they can be studied in a viable manner." She looked to HG, her spiel done, and Helena gave her a nod.

There was a brief commotion in the mob of townspeople as Belle came to the fore, slinging her crossbow over his shoulder. "All magic has a price, is that what you're saying?"

"Yes, pretty much."

"And you have a way to neutralize magical items?"

"Absolutely," Pete confirmed.

Belle looked over their shoulders' to Giselle, who was sharing an impromptu dance with Kathryn. They went way back. "Giselle, is this true?"

"My Helena used to work with them…" Giselle rushed over to take Helena's hand. "I trust her implicitly. She's my true love this month."

"Emma?" Belle asked.

"I haven't heard one lie from them."

"Jinks?" Myka called.

He perked up. "They're all telling the truth. Even her," he added, nodding to Regina.

"People always seem so surprised," Regina mused bitterly.

Belle seized their attention once more. "Then you all should come with me. There's something you need to take care of before anything else can happen to it." She turned to go, then saw they weren't following. "Unless we're all going to kill each other?"

Regina snapped her fingers, summoning up a flint's worth of flame, before putting her hands in her pockets. "Rain check."

Helena smirked at her. "You can make it hot any time you like."

"Get a room," Myka muttered as she fetched her keys from her jacket pocket.

* * *

They drove together in separate cars for the sake of their mutual suspicion. Emma and Regina rode with Helena and Myka, Emma driving, while Belle and Giselle rode with Jinks and Claudia, Pete driving and thanking God for the Prius's staggeringly roomy interior. Flanked by the mob's cars, they sped toward the pawn shop at a crawl, like everyone was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"You're really government agents?" Emma asked. "In charge of policing magical artifacts?"

"You're really able to, what, read people's minds?" Myka shot back.

"Tell when they're lying. Yeah, I know, I know, no one believes it—then they cheat on me, I ask them if they cheated on me, 'no, baby, no,' I throw them out in the middle of the night."

"I believe you," Myka said. "About the… truth sense. Jinks can do something like that."

"Oh yeah? Well, is he a fairy princess?" Emma challenged.

"Uh—you're halfway there…"

Emma laughed, embarrassed. "Gay. Don't get many of those around here."

"Maine?"

"Storybrooke. Don't ask me why…"

"Must cut down on your dating prospects."

Emma's eyebrows raised. "You'd be surprised. Anyway, we got some people here a couple months back. They claimed to be working for an organization that was taking on magic."

"Claimed?"

"They were actually working for Peter Pan."

"Peter Pan? What, Neverland Peter Pan?"

"Yeah."

"Claimed—so, they thought they were working for the FBI or something?"

"Something like that."

"So, what, did Peter Pan stand on another kid's shoulders, dress up in a big coat, and invite them over for a job interview? What did he pay them in, Native American stereotypes?"

"We try not to think about it too much. What about you? And that… guy?"

"Pete? What about us?"

"You're together?"

Myka put her foot up on the dash, pushing on it like she wanted to kick through the engine block. "Sorta. It used to make a lot of sense—now it's starting to feel like a real bad idea."

"Well, obviously. You two are practically different species. Whose genius idea was it for you two to start dating?"

"Uh… a table suggested it."

Emma blinked. "So you hate your life too, huh?"

"Pretty much."

In the backseat, Regina looked over at Helena. "Are they going to flirt like this the entire way?"

"Sounds like. So, you're a sorceress?"

"Yes. And you, a mad scientist?"

"Please. Mad physicist."

"Ah." Regina nodded. "Know any way to bring the dead back to life?"

"No. Know any way to travel in time?"

"Yes, but you wouldn't like it."

"Of course not. Just thought I'd ask."

"Understood."


	3. Chapter 3

When they arrived at the pawn shop. Belle hurried to be first to the door, unlocking it and almost skipping inside. She jumped behind the counter, pausing there. When Pete and Myka entered, both their phones chirped.

"My Appifact is going off the charts." Claudia had invented the process to convert iPhones into low-level Artifact detectors—she got to name it. "Is everything in this store…?"

"Most of it is harmless," Belle assured Myka. "I know that's hard to believe, but things work differently where we're from. Maybe we're just better at managing this sort of thing."

"Less reliance on technology, more open-mindedness?" Myka wondered.

Belle shrugged. "Or the laws of physics are just subtly skewed over there. I'm not sure."

_Great, _Pete thought. _More geek love. _He wondered if he was going to walk in on Belle having a threesome with Myka and HG, then filed _that _thought away for later.

"Pete, stop thinking about me naked," Myka hissed under her breath.

"Not like I'd even _know_—"

"Whose fault is that?"

"All the stuff that was too dangerous—_really _dangerous—was left in the Enchanted Forest." Belle saw the uncomprehending look on their faces. "Home sweet home. But there is one thing—one thing I've wanted to be rid of for a long time." She went to the vault, beginning the long, arcane process of unlocking it both physically and mystically.

"Belle, stop that now." As so often was the case, Gold knew what everyone else was doing without due explanation, and he had made it to the store quickly and without the awareness of anyone else. He simply stepped out of the shadows, posing.

Belle was immune to his knowing tone. "These people, Rumpel… they can destroy the Dagger. End the curse of the Dark One forever without you having to die. Imagine it—you would never again know the temptation of those evil powers…"

A single bead of sweat decorated Gold's forehead. Only Regina saw it—no one saw her amused smile. "Now, let's not be too hasty, dear. My powers have been of great benefit…"

"And greater harm!" Belle opened up the safe. Her eyes were hellish as they looked upon the dagger. "You can lead a normal life, Rumpel. With me. We can have children… grow old together… I can finally heal the darkness in you, just like I've always hoped to. And it starts with this dagger." She drew it out of the safe.

Belatedly, Pete went for an Artifact bag. Myka already had hers out. "Just drop it in. That should shut it down."

Belle was quick to walk it to them, Gold straining at his self-imposed leash like he wanted to dive in her way.

"Belle, can't we talk about this?" Gold's lip was stretched between his teeth. "I mean, there should at least be some discussion—what if some new evil pops up and we need my power to fight it?"

"Again? What're the odds? No, Rumpel—I swore that if I ever had the chance to free you from this curse, I would take it. And that's just what I'm going to do. Trust me—there'll come a time when you thank me." She held the dagger above the bag. "This may get loud. I doubt you've taken on anything like this before."

"We can handle loud," Pete assured her, though he backed up several steps.

Myka gave him a look, but stretched the arm she used to hold the bag at arm's length. "Go ahead, Belle. Drop it in."

"Wait!" Pete cried, just as Belle's grip loosened. The dagger dangled above the bag precariously, Gold gasping next to it, his fingers knotting desperately, his eyes twitching as he tried to think.

"What is it, Pete?" Myka demanded.

"Yes," Gold echoed, "what is it, Pete?"

"In case anything should happen, Belle… you were always my favorite Disney princess."

Belle smiled. "Thank you, Agent Lattimer. Everyone else always says Ariel." She dropped the dagger in.

Nothing happened.

Then more nothing happened.

Finally, in the next ten seconds, as everyone paused, a great quantity of nothing seemed to happen.

Myka shook the bag a little, then realized she was doing that in front of Pete and hated herself. "This isn't an Artifact."

"Ah, you see?" Gold cried. "Their technology doesn't work on our magic. Simply incompatible. We're lucky it didn't cause some sort of disastrous…"

Belle picked up a small magic gemstone from the counter and dropped it in. A cherry bomb went off in the bag. "No, it works fine." She took it, and the blade, out. "So why wouldn't…" Belle eyed the dagger closely. "_No._"

"No?" Gold echoed, restraining a nervous laugh.

"You wouldn't—!"

"I absolutely wouldn't."

"You couldn't!"

"Well, I could, but that doesn't mean—"

"You _did."_

Gold tugged at his collar. "You know, Belle—fights are a part of every couple's first year of marriage…"

"Where's the dagger!? You tell me right now!"

"Belle, please, it's for your own safety. I need its power. I can't lose you like I lost Bae." His eyes were big. They gleamed a little. "Please understand. I only want its power to protect you. You're the only thing that matters to me. Having people think the dagger is one place, having even you think that, is for your own protection. That's the only reason I would ever lie to you. For your own good."

"He killed Zelena," Regina said casually, running a filing iron over her fingertips.

Belle took a step backwards. _"What."_

"Someone clearly used magic to alter the prison's recording. _I _didn't do it… who else had the motive and opportunity to do it? _Tinkerbell_?"

"We shouldn't rule anything out," Gold said in consideration.

Belle slapped him. "You asshole!"

"I am not a—" She slapped him again. "Stop that—" She slapped him again. "You have to under—" She slapped him again. "If you don't stop—" She slapped him again. "I will not tolerate—" She slapped him again. "_I cannot talk to you when you get like this!"_

In a puff of colored smoke, he was gone. Belle slapped the cloud for good measure.

Pete raised a finger. "Not to be insensitive, but—now what?"

Regina took the stage. "If I know Rumpel, he'll spend a few hours flirting with being the Dark One again—scales, leather, calling people 'dearie' a lot. Then he'll run back to win Belle over. They'll fight, they'll make up, and maybe, when all is said and done, he'll give up the real dagger. I suggest you pull up a chair and settle in for a long wait. Granny's should have started pulling out pies for the lunch rush by now."

"Ooh, pies!"

While Myka corralled Pete, Emma took Regina by the arm and pulled her deeper into the store. "What are you playing at?"

"Why Ms. Swan, whatever do you mean?"

"Don't play dumb with me."

"I would never play dumb with you. You have too much experience, you'd beat me with ease."

"You set that up," Emma said, pointing her finger, thinking _j'accuse! _"You wanted Mr. Gold to run off and leave these people in the lurch. Why?"

"Perhaps I simply enjoy having some company that isn't united in hatred and suspicion of me. Besides, you have to admit, it seemed like the appropriate time to drop that little bombshell. Did you see Belle come at him?"

Emma couldn't quite hide a grin. "I thought she was going to knock him on his ass."

Regina looked down at Emma's hand, still on her arm. She smoothly dissuaded it. "If you'll excuse me—"

"No." Emma said it as Regina tried to move past her, her arm reaching out to block Regina's path. "Just so you know… I'm not united in hatred _or _suspicion with anyone."

Regina's eyes grew soft, considering. She leaned over to Emma's ear. "Very true… but you don't have a British accent."

Smoothly side-stepping Emma, she drew up to Helena with all the swagger her power and confidence gave her. "Care for a drink while you wait?"


	4. Chapter 4

In short order, everyone had dispersed to their various ends of the Earth. Pete stayed with Belle in the pawn shop, partly to snag/bag/tag some of the more dangerous Artifacts, but mostly to comfort her.

"I can't believe it!" she was ranting, looking through the display case for something to hand off. "I thought he'd changed! I married him! I'm his wife! The future mother of his children! And he just lies to me! Right to my face! Not even about porn—I could understand that! About murdering people and… and daggers!"

"Men are pigs," Pete agreed.

"Yes, thank you." Belle realized she'd started crying and hurriedly wiped the tears from her eyes. "And thanks for listening to me rave. I know you probably have better things to do than listen to some silly librarian go on and on about her relationship. Here. The Horned King's Cauldron. You're probably want to get rid of this."

"What's it do?" Pete asked, taking the pot from her. It didn't look any more dangerous than most dishware.

"Raises an army of the dead to wage war on the living."

"Yeah." Pete set it aside gently. "Yeah, I can see how we'd want to keep an eye on that."

"You know what's really awful?" Belle asked. "Normal couples, they at least have fights. I just keep giving lectures, because it's _always _him. I don't do anything wrong, it's all him. If I did something wrong, at least I could feel a little conflicted, because we'd both have flaws, but it's _always him. _He's always lying! I've never lied! I've never broken a promise! Is it just harder for him than it is for me?"

"Maybe it's easier for a good person to stay good than for a bad person to change," Pete said, his eyes drifting upward in thought.

"You're right. You're so right." Belle reached out to take his hand. "I wish more men were like you. So sensitive… so thoughtful."

"I'm not really that thoughtful."

"So modest!" Belle cried, squeezing his hand. "I just wish I had a way to get back at him."

"Get back at him?"

"Some promise I made to him that I could break. But all I've ever promised him is to stay with him, and I can't not do that—I love him."

"Well, actually—"

"Of course, I did promise to remain faithful to him—forsaking all others—but I can't very well break that vow, can I? Just cheat on him?"

"Actually, I think…"

Belle took a step towards him. Pete took a step back.

"Am I really your favorite Disney princess?"

Pete laughed nervously, taking another step back as Belle advanced on him. "Yeah, Belle… of course you are."

"Because Ariel… she wears that teeny-tiny little bra. You can see her dinners all the time."

"Her dinners?"

"She has great breasts, don't you think? I met her. They really are something.

Pete backed into the wall. "I'm sure they are!"

"I mean, look at mine." Belle undid her blouse. "Nothing to write home about, are they?"

"I wouldn't say that…"

"You're right… more than a handful is a waste. Isn't that what they say?"

"Yes—I mean, that is what they say."

"And they are, you know."

"Are?"

"A handful. Here. Feel."

"I should, uh, err…"

"Your hands are so soft…"

"So are your, uh—"

"Just about a handful—wouldn't you say?"

"Yup. That's a ten-four, good buddy."

"But I bet they're too big to fit in your mouth."

Pete really had to take that wager.

As it turned out, a lot of things could fit into a lot of things.

* * *

Regina's drawing room was vast and spartan, dominated by a massive fireplace that shed its bonfire light like a cloud of perfume. A pair of wing-backed chairs set it off, a little chessboard table between them, the pieces stored in a drawer underneath. Helena regarded the interplay of black and white in the firelight until Regina was upon her again.

"Behold," Regina said, bearing a silver tray. "My famous apple cider."

Helena smiled back at her as Regina served them. "May I assume this is a seduction?"

Regina sat down across from her. "You can assume a great deal—without ever finding out if your assumptions are accurate."

Helena took her glass, but toyed with the amber liquid inside rather than drinking it—tilting the cup this way and that. "I sense a certain… _élan… _when it comes to our shared morality. Boldness becomes us. Polite conversation does not."

"How true. So, in the interests of _interesting _conversation, shall we trade mortal sins?"

Helena smiled evenly at her. "What makes you think I have one?"

"Your colleagues. They want to trust you, but they don't. They tip-toe around you. They didn't even do that around me." Regina sipped lightly. "All but that woman, _Myka, _which I assume we'll come to."

"Is there alcohol in this drink?"

"Most assuredly."

"Then I think we will." Helena smiled. It wasn't as hollow as usual. "I take it you speak from experience when it comes to… tip-toeing?"

"Yes."

"Except for the blonde."

Regina rolled her eyes. "Too stupid not to trust me."

Helena was equally dismayed. "Oh, Regina, I thought we were too alike for lies."

"Never. Now, seeing as you are a guest in my house, would you like to go first? Why is it you let them think they're better than you?"

Helena set her glass down. Spun it lazily. "A long time ago, I had a daughter. You have a son. You know there's a uniqueness to the love between parent and child—the love you can only have for yourself coupled with the love you can only have for another, because you can see yourself in them. You can… she died." Helena took up the glass and drained it. "I took it as well as you'd expect."

The thought of losing Henry was no more bearable for Regina now than it ever was. "I'd kill _families._"

Helena shrugged. "They were mostly orphans, though. Afterward, my only comfort was thinking of a better world. I traveled the decades in a ship of bronze and time, until I was woken in this day and age."

Regina nodded. "I've traveled similarly."

"Then you've noticed a certain lack of 'better'."

"Yes." Regina sipped. "The internet is nice, though."

Helena's head rolled to the side. "What do you do to a wounded animal when you can't make it better?"

Helena was speaking Regina's language too well for the Queen not to take her meaning. "Oh, Helena. The whole world?"

"At least I can't be accused of lacking ambition. I lost my soul, Regina. What would you have done?"

"A world like that… I wouldn't have given it something as merciful as death. Which I suppose is my problem. Always trying to win the game instead of end it. Refill?"

"Yes, please."

Regina tipped the carafe to both their glasses. There came a scratching at the terrace door. Regina got up, excusing herself politely, and went to it. Through the glass panes that looked into her backyard, she saw a large black canine pelting the door with its paws.

"Go away, Ruby. I don't have time to play with you right now. I'm entertaining a guest."

Giving a moan, the dog swiped at the glass harder.

"I'm not letting you in! Go away or I'm getting the hose."

Ruby gave a bark, turned with a swish of her tail, and ran off.

"Friend of yours?" Helena asked as Regina returned.

"Something of a stray. The bitch is in heat, poor dear. If I let her in, she'd be humping your leg in under a minute."

"We wouldn't want that."

"No. I want you all to myself." Regina smiled and straightened her suit. She was a patient seductress. She enjoyed knowing the game was in the bag, as evidenced by the subtle smirk Helena returned to her, but felt no need to rush an enjoyable conversation to get to the unknown quantity of their sex. She savored her impending victory. "Where was I?"

"Your mortal sin."

"Oh, yes. When I was very young, I was in love."

"Ha!" Helena cried, followed by: "Sorry."

"No, no—you have to understand, in my world, such things weren't so… laughable. He was my soulmate. He died because of Snow White. I vowed revenge."

Helena's eyebrow peaked. "Seems you're the good guy in all this."

"Did I mention Snow was, oh—nine?"

"Ah. Went a little mad, did we? I'm not judging."

"Yes. It's comfortable, isn't it? Being mad."

Helena was noncommittal. "Grows tiresome," was all she would say on the subject.

"I take it you've been a crusader for good of sorts?" Helena nodded. "Then you know how hard it is for evil to catch a break. She got a husband, friends, my kingdom—she had it all. So I cast a spell that would teleport all of them here, where I was their beloved ruler and they all suffered hellish, ironic fates, living false lives as ordinary earthbound citizens."

Helena's head tilted. "Ingenious."

"Thank you."

"And they think it was your choice? To do all that?"

Regina was confused now. "I made it gladly."

"One thing I've learned. There are times when my madness makes the choices for me. At other times, it is simply a matter of controlling my madness."

"I hadn't thought of it that way. Intriguing proposition. Somewhat self-serving."

"Who else is going to serve us? Who else is going to forgive us but ourselves?"

Holding her glass by the lip, Regina tapped her middle finger on the rim. "That brunette, what was her name? Myka? She didn't seem as… confident… in her fear of you. In fact, when she looked at you—when she didn't restrain herself from doing so—her gaze was rather warm."

"Ancient history," Helena said dismissively.

"History I'd very much like to revisit, if I were in your shoes."

"You're not so bereft of attention to envy me." Helena leaned forward. "_Emma Swan. _I recall her name quite clearly."

"The dear thing despises me, and rightly so."

"Please. I could _taste _the fondness coming off her. She fancies you."

Regina's face became a sneer. "Says the woman who insists Myka Bering has washed her hands of her."

"She could never forgive me—she has someone else—"

"True love has a way of cutting through entanglements. Annoyingly so."

"Really? Then when Emma breaks down the door to ravish you on the floor, shall I go or stay and watch?"

"I've lived too long to believe that happening as even a oncein a lifetime thing."

"This sounds like the beginning of a wager."

Regina leaned back in her chair. "You remind me of an old friend. She turned into a dragon and I had her killed, but before that, we were quite close. Very well. The bet?"

"You have nothing I want."

"You have nothing I want. So, simply the sport and satisfaction of being right."

Helena clasped her hands together. "Thank the Lord for our egos. Otherwise—what unsatisfying stakes."

"The terms?"

"Our respective paramours. We visit them and engage with them. If your Emma responds, I win. If my Myka responds, you win."

"Betting on whether beautiful maidens have feelings for us. How despicable."

"Positively devilish. Cheers."

They toasted, their glasses making a small clink together in the quiet night.


	5. Chapter 5

Pete stood in the back alley of the diner, by an old abandoned couch and a broken-down motorcycle, nursing a candy cigarette. Recently he found out they still made those, you just had to order them online. He'd gotten about a thousand in the mail and fit parcels of them into an antique cigarette case for trips. He looked so cool. Soon, he'd go inside for some pie, once the afterglow had faded. He knew how good smalltown people were at knowing when you'd got some.

That's when he noticed the big wolf prowling toward him. He'd seen it at the blockade and assumed it was just a police dog. Now he realized how big it was. It was—really big. Like a dog-horse for normal dogs to ride.

"Easy…" Pete said, raising his hands slowly. "Nice doggie… nice… nice…"

He was just about to go for his Tesla when the wolf started barking. Pete froze, deciding paralysis was the better part of valor.

"Yes, yes, I agree completely," he babbled.

The wolf stopped abruptly, growling almost self-deprecatingly, then it was gone. In its place was a girl. A girl not wearing clothes. A girl Pete really appreciated not wearing clothes.

"_I said,_" she said, "if you're up to something or if you hurt Belle in any way, I am going to eat you! I don't have a taste for human flesh, but it doesn't taste as bad as all that!"

Pete gently folded his arms, a hand propping under his chin, automatically becoming a British gentleman as one did when very confused. "We're really just here to help, naked werewolf lady girl."

"The name's Ruby," Ruby said, folding her arms across her chest, hiding her breasts, which provoked a small moan of dismay from Pete—something like a dog whining for a treat. "You're lucky Giselle vouched for you. That's all I'm saying. And don't even _think _of dissecting me!"

"Hey, hey now, I like your skin just fine the way it is!"

Ruby looked down at her own naked form as if just remembering she'd transformed sans cloak. Seeing that her legs were acceptably shaved, she looked back up. "You just watch it!"

"No problem there, Rubes. But hey, I'd hate to make you feel underdressed, so—" Pete took his shirt off. He was pretty good at it. Even Myka thought so. He still had pretty good moves from the Chippendale's thing in college.

Ruby looked him over, lowering her crossed arms a little, not caring if he could now once again see the color of her nipples. "Not bad."

Pete was also a master of flexing without looking like he was flexing. "Yeah, no one appreciates how hard it is to get in a good core work-out on a government salary."

"Not your pecs. Think lower."

Pete looked lower. "Oh, sorry. I have a thing for werewolves. I'm Team Jacob all the way."

"You're still overdressed, though."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I'll help with that."

The next thing Pete knew, cloth was ripping. "UMMMM—"

"Don't get the wrong idea. You're not that charming. It's just that I'm in heat and everyone else in this town I'll have to face for the rest of my life. But _you're _going to move on in the morning like a traveling salesman, aren't you?"

"If not sooner!"

"And don't take this the wrong way, but you smell really good. Really sexy. Almost like—" Ruby cocked her head suddenly to the side. "Do you read a lot?"

"Yes. Yes, I do."

He wasn't lying. She hadn't specified books, after all.


	6. Chapter 6

No matter how cozy the room Granny had put her up in was, Myka couldn't get comfortable. Times like these, settling into a new place, she always thought of Leena and the B&B. Leena had just had this way of putting you at ease. It wasn't anything she did, it was just—without her, a place was just a glorified Motel 6.

Sighing, Myka took out a Dictaphone. The room was generously furnished with an antique writing desk, and she did enjoy perching her laptop on it as she filled out reports on the Artifacts they'd collected. She played Belle's description of a particular colander as she translated it into Artie-ese for the report.

Her phone soon rang, though a look at the clock told her it was fifty minutes later and she'd completed reports on a dozen Artifacts. _Time sure flies, _she thought to herself as she picked up.

"Myka!" Pete said. "It's Pete. Mykes, this town is full of nymphomaniacs! The hot kind! I'm calling our relationship on account of suddenly having game, which you knew could happen. You've gotta get in on this! I've seen more naked cartoon characters in the last two hours than I have on Reddit. _On Reddit, _Myka!"

"You can't break up with me! I already broke up with you!" Myka replied, just as there was a knock at the door. "Hold on, I've got a call on the—real life."

"Yeah, I gotta go, I think Rapunzel is into me." He hung up.

"Slut!" Myka tucked her phone away and went to the door.

After she opened it, she just stood there, gawking for a second. Helena was beautiful, of course—possibly the most elegant, exquisite woman Myka had ever met—but Myka was at least used to her. Regina was just—Myka looked up and down, eyes hovering at the deep cleavage exposed by a lethal combination of open blazer and low-cut wrap top, her coat off and draped on one arm. Her sight was only drawn away by Regina's long, luscious legs, trimmed in nearly skintight linen, standing slightly parted in a pose that was all the more alluring for how it wasn't _trying_ to be. She projected sheer power and it was beautiful.

Myka herself had taken off her suit jacket, leaving her in a purple blouse and slacks—too professional to be flattering, but they did nothing to detract from her looks. HG wore a tight cotton top that laced between her breasts too tightly to leave doubt about the existence of her bra. Her pants similarly white and just tight enough to be immodest without being crude. If she turned around, Myka imagined the view would be spectacular.

"You must be Myka," Regina said, stepping forward to put an arm around Myka's shoulders. "And what an exquisite creature you are. May I use your washroom? Helena has something she'd like to say to you, privately."

"Yeah. Sure."

Regina disappeared into the recesses of the apartment, Myka unable to resist watching her go. She wondered if that wiggle was deliberate or if it just—happened.

She refocused on Helena. "Tell me you two aren't—"

"No, no, we just had a few drinks. Nothing happened."

"Good," Myka said, then wished she could take it back. How was it good or bad if Helena did or didn't have relations with Regina? She didn't care. Helena could go back to Nate, for all she cared. "What do you want?" she asked, trying to avoid sounding aggressive, coming off weary instead.

Helena seemed fixed on the spot, trapped like a deer in headlights, but she forced herself inside the room, closing the door behind her. She opened her mouth as if to speak, then was quick to sit down. Settled, rooted in place, she was finally able to respond. "I've been thinking."

"You're good at that."

"Thanks. This town—these people—they're all stories."

"Helena, it's late. I have work."

"No, listen—everyone around us, they all have these stories told about them. Not just one a piece, either! Some have dozens, _hundreds _of stories growing from them. It's extraordinary, isn't it? To meet a living story."

"Yes. I suppose it is." Myka gave in to the connection between them, at least a little, sitting down across from Helena on a wicker chair. "But I've met one before."

Helena grinned bashfully. "Perhaps these might live up to expectations."

"You _never _let down my expectations. Dr. Moreau, the Invisible Man, Cavor—you're all of them rolled into one."

"I should've written more heroes, then."

"You're not a book, HG. You can't be a 'scientific romance' all the time."

"I can try. I should've tried." She looked at Myka—_looked _at her, seeing magnificence, divinity, passion. "It's not my story. Not anymore. It's ours. And this ending, us drifting away, us becoming _pals _or _best buds_—" She spat the terms with derision. "It won't do. We are an epic, Myka. Lives lost, souls fought for, speeches given and music played. We don't just come to a stop like some _anecdote. _We go on. We put Beowulf and Gilgamesh to shame with our adventures. We die clutching a dragon's heart."

Myka was not unaffected. How could she be? She'd dreamed of this—Helena professing her love, finally, unequivocally. Not some warm gesture or risqué one-liner, but actually saying how she felt. What she needed.

But it'd been a long time. And she wasn't quite that person anymore. Maybe she never had been. "What if I want easy?"

"Pete was easy. Did that satisfy you? Just—letting 'love' happen? I'm not saying you won't have to fight for me, Myka. I'm saying I'll fight for you just as hard."

"I'm tired of being in a fight, Helena."

"Then you should stop being worth fighting for."

"Oh my God, this is like watching a Mexican soap opera. No, worse. Like watching _The L Word._"

Regina stepped out of the bathroom. Stark naked. She wore nothing but a thong. She didn't want them to think she was too immodest, after all.

Myka gaped. Regina's body was insanity. She'd seen Helena naked and still, she was floored. It just seemed impossible that someone could come that close to perfection. _Close, hell… _Myka couldn't find a single flaw on her. She didn't think even Perez Hilton could. Beside her, she heard Helena give a soft gurgle. Nice to know they were in agreement.

"Helena, let me do you a small favor, one villain to another. Myka, if you're naked in the next thirty seconds, I'll have sex with you. Both of you. Thirty-_one _seconds, offer's off the table. Am I clear? Good. The clock has started—tick-tock."

Helena, a certified genius, rose both eyebrows. She looked over Regina. She saw the look of sudden, shocked desire in Myka's eyes. She pondered the scenario, calculated the possible outcomes, and almost instantaneously decided that, as was so often the case, the wisest course of action was the one that resulted in the most physical pleasure for her.

She began to undress, slowly drawing the laces of her shirt from their eyelets. "Well, I can't rightly expect a better offer than that."

Myka, shocked into inaction, was shocked once more into taking offense. "You can't be serious!"

Helena took off her shirt. Her nipples had been prominent enough through the thin material; now it was impossible for Myka to look at anything else. "I never make a joke of sex. Men do that often enough."

"I am not going to have a _threesome _with my ex-girlfriend and a virtual stranger just because she looks good naked!"

Regina was affronted. "I look _great _naked. Twenty seconds."

Helena peeled off her trousers, her long ivory legs bared all the way up to a pair of silk panties. Now Myka couldn't take her eyes off _those. _"When you look back on your life, what story is there in _not _having a threesome with Regina Mills?"

"I don't even know her!"

"You don't," Helena agreed.

"She's evil! Kinda!"

Regina inclined her head in agreement. "Ten seconds."

"And you and me, we have to build trust and work on our communication and decide what we want out of a relationship—"

"Five seconds," Regina said, idly picking up her coat.

"—we haven't even decided if we want a dog—oh, hell…" Myka threw herself into a kiss with Helena, who eagerly reciprocated until it was too much for even her and they fell to the bed. Regina rolled her eyes at the sudden obliviousness to her—she thought she'd never stop being annoyed by true love—but when she climbed next to Myka opposite Helena, she was welcomed eagerly enough.

Helena unbuttoned Myka's shirt as they kissed, while Regina briefly kissed her neck before moving down to tug off Myka's slacks, leaving her thighs spread for her to lie between. She left her panties on, running a finger over their crotch, enjoying the electric feel of Myka's warmth through the dampening fabric. Myka squealed lightly into Helena's mouth.

Regina folded Myka's panties down, just low enough to give her cunt a taste of the air conditioner's cool stream, and then she pressed her mouth to the pungent beginnings of wetness. Myka was left gasping, unable to continue her passionate liplock with Helena.

"Now that is a delectable specimen," Regina mused, eying Helena more than Myka. "And you mean to tell me that it's gone _months _without being tasted by another woman? What a waste…" She slid her hand under Myka's ass and began to free her panties.

"I've never done anything like this before!" Myka gasped as Helena sought to devour her pulse right from her neck. "Helena and I—we knew each other for a long time before we had sex! We went on several dates! I was really sort of a prude-!"

"Yes, yes—" Regina worked Myka's panties down long, slender thighs. "You're a very good girl. All the better for us to corrupt…"

She held out the soaked panties to Regina, who obligingly savored their scent like a wine connoisseur being served a fresh glass. "I think _that's _gotten even better since the last time…"

"Would you care to-?" Regina asked, running her hands up Myka's bare legs, up to her bare groin.

"No, I insist. You've never had a go, after all."

"Just as long as someone fucking—AH!"

Myka cried out as Regina's hands finally made their way to her crotch, parting her labia and then being followed by her face—buried in Myka's sex. Her eyes fluttered closed as Helena lovingly opened her undone shirt, equally lovingly undid her bra, and then very lovingly bit down on a large, hard nipple.

"Ooooooo-!" Myka forced her eyes open. She stared at Helena like she was seeing the center of the universe. "No, no—you—come up here!"

Helena took her meaning. As fun as it was to inflict pleasure of Myka, it was equally enjoyable to receive it. She crawled supplely over Myka's body, drawing her flesh over Myka's, tantalizingly slow as she finally brought herself up to dangled her breasts over Myka's face. Myka was quick to close her lips around an offered nipple; her hand were even faster as they went to stroke Helena's face and hair. And all the while, Regina was busily eating Myka's pussy, bent over the bed so Emma Swan could see only the bare cheeks of her ass, the string of her tiny thong pulled tight between them.

* * *

Emma had only gone to the bed and breakfast to get a feel for Myka Bering. She'd had no idea two other women had such similar ideas.

She'd been prepared for a slow evening of getting to know the new arrival, probing her, maybe having some feminine bonding—_stop that, _she thought to herself. When she'd heard the strange noises inside, she'd been quick to act… but she'd cautioned herself against acting rashly. That had backfired often enough in her dealings with Regina. Instead, she would be smart. Hook had confided to her that the place's old-fashioned locks actually let you look inside the rooms if the guest didn't flip down the covers, something few modern people thought to do.

God, Regina was right, what had she ever seen in Hook? Even for a quick orgasm with another person, there was no call to embarrass herself. She was a princess. Grace Kelly was a princess, did you ever see her in a movie sucking face with someone who smelled like he had a part-time job as a barroom's carpet?

So she'd knelt in front of the door, put her eye to the lock—yes, very dignified behavior for a princess, and seen—

Well, she wasn't sure what she saw. It _looked _like three incredibly attractive women, two of them out-of-towners, all naked, having sex with each other.

But Emma couldn't be sure. She'd better keep watching, just to be certain. If she couldn't make out what they were doing in, oh, half an hour, she'd leave.


	7. Chapter 7

A wild moan ripped its way out of Myka from deep inside, finally burying itself in Helena's breast. Helena held her lover tight to her chest, stroking her hair with all its lovely, decadent curls. They all knew she was close.

"That's it, darling," she hummed. "Come for us—let us see you _ignite_."

"Then give me your fingers." Myka was moaning more than she was speaking. "Nothing makes me come like those long, perfect—" She broke off to suck Helena's thumb into her mouth, only relinquishing it slowly from between her lips.

Helena reached down, got a firm grip on Regina's hair, and simply yanked her off of Myka. Then she turned the two of them so they were lying on their sides, locked in another kiss, making Myka feel the heat of her sex alone before she delved into it with her cool, salving fingers.

Myka's lips opened in a silent scream. Helena traced them with her tongue. Regina came up to kiss both of them, Frenching them both, comparing their tastes. The moment she was done, the two agents went back to each other, leaving Regina in the lurch.

Regina could put up with a lot of suffering, but being _ignored _was too much for her. She sardonically kissed Myka on the cheek before whispering. "If I can't have your pussy, I'll have something else." Punctuated with her fingers digging in to Myka's toned ass.

Helena raised her head, eying Regina dangerously—ready to bare her teeth if anything the queen said or did displeased Myka—but Myka just shifted to the side a few inches to look back at Regina. "It's all yours," she said simply.

Regina moved down Myka's strong back, kissing every vertebra in her spine before settling between the succulent curves of her ass. Myka groaned in anticipation as she realized Regina was actually going to do it.

Regina watched Helena's forearm clench, supple muscles stirring the surface of her creamy skin as her hand was buried between Myka's thighs. It was almost as good viewing material as Myka's apple-ass, splayed in front of her like the promised land. She'd always had a thing for a nice ass. Maybe it was just that anyone else's breasts would be a disappointment compared to her own perfect pair. Even the most mouth-watering display of cleavage fell short if she were only to look down. But an ass… well, hers _was _stellar, but she only saw it when she looked in the mirror, so Regina could at least fool herself that someone else's was worth touching.

Besides, spanking herself was no damn fun at all.

She ran a finger lazily over Helena's clenched arm as she lightly kissed Myka's ass, a few on one cheek, a few on the other, followed by a series of short licks that skirted the deep inner curve. She was quite sure Myka's lightness of breath owed to her. She climbed over Myka's body and kissed Helena's arm, enjoying the scintillated look Helena tossed her. Then she went back down, parted Myka's ass, and let her tongue snake out right between Myka's plump cheeks.

* * *

_Oh fuck, _Emma thought. She still couldn't make out who the third person was—it couldn't be that skinny little co-ed they'd brought with them, could it? It had to be someone from town. And there was only one thing she could be doing, her head drawing a slow path over Myka's ass. Normally, Emma would think Ruby, but God knew that girl wore skimpy enough clothes that Emma would be able to recognize her naked body. No, this was someone else.

Someone Emma would have to find out about before she left. Anyone who got this freaky was someone she wanted to know.

Now she watched as the Englishwoman dropped down Myka's body, her hand pumping until the last possible second, only to be replaced by her tongue. And now her hand—it was gleaming, it was so wet—traced over the mystery guest's body.

Belle, maybe?

* * *

"Yes! Yes!" Myka didn't know where to put her hands. Regina was rimming her—she wanted to hold Regina in place, keep her from getting away, but Helena was licking her pussy, so she wanted to stroke that luscious hair as she looked down at it from possibly the greatest angle in existence—seeing it held between her open thighs. "Oh fuck!"

As she came, she ended up grabbing her own breasts. She thrust her hips back and forth, trying to drive herself into both her twin pleasures—Regina's tongue in her ass and Helena's mouth on her cunt.

She finished contorted in delight, spread all across the bed. Helena gave her thigh a quick kiss before going up to give Myka's lips a longer one. They pulled to each other like two magnets. Regina watched their embrace almost enviously before clapping a hand on Helena's ass. "You're next," she said, before rising to go to the kitchen. She needed to gargle something.

And as she crossed to the sinks, she glanced toward the door, wondering if she'd remembered to lock it. And so, quite unknowingly, her eyes locked with those of Sheriff Emma Swan.

* * *

Emma's foray into impulse control came to a quick end. Perhaps if the door _had _been locked, she would've thought better of her actions in the second or two it took to shake the handle, and would've run for it. But since the door swung open freely, she charged into the room without a second thought.

"You asshole!" she cried, a finger stabbed at Regina.

Regina, still quite naked, raised a hand to her quite naked breast in the international gesture of _moi?_

"You give me all this shit about Robin Hood breaking up with you and _what the fuck are you doing? You're having a threesome! With, like, the two hottest women ever!"_

"Who's she?" Myka asked Helena, sotto voce.

Helena raised an eyebrow. "Someone with good taste. Most especially in jeans," she concluded, eying Emma's ass.

"I've created a monster," Myka said.

"And!" Emma continued. "You're a lesbian! Since when are you a lesbian!? Do you know how many times I've thought, gee, I wish Regina was a lesbian, only I guess you were into girls _this whole time!"_

"I don't see how my bisexuality is any business of the sheriff's office," Regina said. When shocked, she tended to become bureaucratic. "Unless, of course, you're interested for personal reasons…"

"Oh! Oh! You wanna go there? You wanna go to the Emma-has-a-crush-on-Regina _place! _What an asshole thing to do!"

Regina spread her arms, which made her breasts do an interesting bounce that was noted by all present. "I am the Evil Queen."

"Yes! The _Evil _Queen! _Not the Asshole Queen!"_

"She seemed to do pretty well with Myka's," Regina said helpfully.

Emma jabbed a finger at her. "I don't want any lip from you!"

"Just tongue," Regina said.

"_You do not get to make gay jokes about me! _I was, like, the butchest person ever! I did everything short of chopping down a tree to get you to notice me!"

"You had two boyfriends!" Regina protested.

"_We have a son!"_

"This is why lesbians don't have threesome," Myka thought aloud. "Three times the drama."

"Do not even act like this is my fault!" Emma persisted. "I flirted up a storm! I answered the door in my underwear! How much more obvious could I have made it?"

Helena pointed at Regina. "She got naked and asked us if we wanted to have a threesome."

Emma clapped her hands to her face and pulled them slowly downward. "Do you have any idea how many people I would've threesome'd with you? I was only interested in Graham because I thought we could share him! Hell, back before the Curse broke, I would've double-teamed my mom with you, and don't think that won't come up in therapy!"

"What do you want me to do? Apologize for not having sex with you? Just because we're both queer as hell, extremely physically attractive, have incredible chemistry, and probably have a compatible sexual dynamic?"

"I'm a bottom!" Emma said.

"Regina loves bottoms," Helena pointed out.

"_I'm okay with butt stuff too!" _Emma stressed. "But no! No! You blew it! With your boyfriends, and your occasional attempts to destroy the town, and your weird obsession with my mom that is taking on an entirely new dimension now that I'm realizing you're _this gay!" _She gestured at Myka and Helena.

"First of all," Regina said, "I don't think it's really that gay to have sex with those two. I mean, look at them. Angie Harmon would have sex with them."

"Not sure what that proves," Myka said evenly.

"Second, you're the one who wanted to have sex with your mom."

"I didn't know she was my mother at the time!"

"Well, you two have the exact same jaw, so I guess you're just a narcissist."

"Says the woman who's still naked!"

"Girls, girls, please." Helena stood. "If we can all take a deep breath, I do believe the four of us can solve this problem. In the next thirty seconds, in fact. Don't you agree, Myka?"

Myka eyed Emma. And Emma's arms. "Oh yeah. Thirty seconds. Tops."


	8. Chapter 8

Emma didn't notice HG leaving at first. In her defense, Myka was very interesting… company. As was Regina, of course. When _she _left, pulled away by Helena, Emma pulled bolt upright from the bed. "Should we be worried?"

Myka was quick to make up for the lost hands. "Have you _met _them?" She began a program of kissing Emma's neck and shoulders. "They're probably going off to be sarcastic, brood about a few things, talk about how wicked they are, then they'll come back with some sex toys like they're the height of decadence."

"Should _I _be worried? For a cop, I'm surprisingly uncomfortable with handcuffs."

"Knowing HG, I'm thinking just strap-ons. What are your thoughts on double penetration?"

* * *

Regina plucked at the odd assortment of straps around her hips, prodded the somewhat obscene silicone plug emanating from her groin. It bobbled… interestingly. "So you say these are quite common?"

"You can buy them at practically every street corner," Helena confirmed—one of the rare things she'd been delighted to learn about the 21st century. "Aces, no?"

"I've been in this world nearly thirty years and I've never heard of them."

"You should visit more interesting websites, then."

* * *

Myka felt like applauding when Helena and Regina came back, wearing their dildos like royal accoutrements, but she was a touch busy lubing Emma up. Emma was enjoying the process. She lifted her head, saw the two strap-ons pointed at her, and grew quickly used to the idea. Not too used to it not to gripe, though. "Really? Why does everyone always assume I'm into DP?"

"DP?" Regina asked, and HG whispered in her ear. "You people are such perverts."

"Yeah?" Emma challenged. "Where were you planning to stick that thing?"

"You're a thief, Ms. Swan. Surely, you prefer the backdoor?" Regina's words were entirely offset by her charming smile, though it was a near thing.

Emma turned to Helena. "Which I guess means you…"

"Yes, darling. I hope to make things as pleasant as possible for you. I myself have been exactly where you're sitting, when this Artifact caused there to be two Mykas and we…"

"It's Storybrooke, not story time," Myka interrupted, and Regina gave her a dirty look as, fed up, she went to Emma and brusquely took her head in her hands. Emma looked up into Regina's eyes, suddenly flushed with desire. When Regina urged her head downward, her lips parted automatically.

Myka watched Emma lick the head of Regina's strap-on, then close her lips around its collar, then suck it down into her mouth. "I guess we're having sex then."

Helena stroked her arm. "Would you care to sit on her face? Hopefully, she won't be too far gone to return some of the favors she's being done."

"I think I'll sit this one out," Myka said. "I'm still working out how to sit down after the last round."

HG sighed. "I understand. Sometimes it's fun to watch. I'll try to put on a good show."

Her hand in Emma's hair, Helena forced the blonde off his glistening dildo. Emma looked up at her panting with need, and Regina savored their eye contact before flipping Emma over, forcing her down to the bed. The queen moved behind her, trapping Emma in her arms and legs, the head of the dildo rubbing between the globes of Emma's ass as Regina vampirically kissed her throat. The moan that came from Emma was long and unbidden.

"Helena," Regina called, "get in here and have your fun before I grow tired of her."

Emma shuddered a little. She loved it when Regina's voice got like that—and when Regina's hand went where it was.

Helena gave Myka a quick kiss before hurrying to attend to Emma, dropping down across from Regina in almost the same trap they'd placed Myka in earlier. Emma's eyes were closed, Regina's wide open to watch HG fit the dildo to Emma's sex. She kept dithering her blonde there right until the strap-on went in, and when Emma cried out, Regina's ear was almost at her mouth.

"_Yes,_" Regina hissed. "You really are a slut, aren't you?"

"Least I don't own any leather pants," Emma retorted.

"Let's not get into your fashion choices."

"Are these really the circumstances to be argumentative?" Helena asked, proving her point by snuggling closer to Emma, the many inches of her dildo pressing in until the base was tight against Emma's cunt. Emma huffed out various curses, feeling herself _getting some _for the first time in a while and loving it for the first time in longer. Still, she distinctly felt Regina's hand fondle her ass. Another curse leapt to mind.

"I take your meaning," Regina said over Emma's muffled swearing, "but she really doesn't get more articulate than this."

"You're a bitch."

"I'm _the _bitch," Regina corrected her lover, parting Emma's cheeks with her soft hands. Her touch was almost gentle. She pressed the head of her dildo the only place it could go. "And your ass is mine."

Emma swore again. Yet again when Helena thrust forward, starting a pounding pleasure between Emma's legs that Regina just added to by working her dildo into Emma's tight ass. Despite her harsh words, Regina was experienced enough and clever enough to know to go slow, even deferring to Helena as the Englishwoman helped Emma loosen up with small kisses and intimate touches. Emma would remember Regina's hands as actually being quite gentle, stroking Emma's skin as if in amazement at its softness, kissing her lightly on the back of her neck, her breathing throaty and raw. Emma thought if Regina wasn't saying _I love you, _she was surely thinking it. Emma knew the feeling.

Myka watched, circling her clit, rubbing her sex, feeling the dull gray safety of her life without Helena burn away, feeling sexual and crazy and worthy, feeling like being in Emma's shoes, feeling like being one of the people doing it to her. She felt dirty in the best possible way.

Regina's hips pressed against Emma's ass, her muscles clenching slowly and unclenching slower. She forced the dildo in, let it out, forced it in, let it out. She thought Emma's squealing moans were a sign that the sheriff had taken the hint and Regina had gotten her message across, but if she hadn't, she wouldn't repeat herself like some simpering reality show contestant. She'd given Emma some romance, now she wanted to fuck. Her body picked up speed, the dildo pitching in and out of Emma.

Helena went wild as well, pounding herself into Emma like she was trying to strike Regina through her. She moved in to kiss Emma, but Regina took the woman practically by the throat and twisted her head around to kiss Emma herself. Helena found herself grinning. Such a romantic. She lowered her head to Emma's breasts instead as the blonde's body was thrown between the two gorgeous women. Emma let out a scream, climaxing, but her lovers weren't ready to stop fucking her.

They went at it for long minutes, Emma coming again and again, Myka coming just for a change of pace, then the curly-haired woman rose from her seat, regarding the three women not as a spectacle, but as an activity to join in on. She went to the bed, touching Helena's shoulder with the merest brush of her fingers.

Helena pulled out of Emma, rolling onto her back, and Myka smiled eagerly at her as she climbed onto the bed, legs spread to straddle Helena's strap-on. The thought that it was still wet from Emma drove her mad with lust.

"Hey," Helena said as Myka sank down atop her.

"Hey," Myka replied, beginning to gyrate her hips, undulate her naked body—dancing for her lover.

With Helena gone, Regina was free to move to a better position. She rolled on top of Emma, then was on her feet, pulling Emma to the edge of the bend, contorting her lover so she was bent over the precipice. Emma realized that, once again, she was being fucked doggy-style.

"Thought you were the bitch," she said, projecting more disgruntlement than she felt.

"We can be bitches together," Regina told her with a slap on the ass. Then she looked at Myka next to her, riding HG Wells like a finely-tuned motorcycle, and had a thought.

As always, Regina allowed for no possibility of failure in her planning. She thought the specific incantation, the smoke came, and the next thing Emma knew, she was on the opposite side of the bed from the two Warehouse agents, bent over the bed so her face was by Helena's.

"Thanks, Nightcrawler," she muttered, only to be gripped by Regina's hand in her hair. She was sorta getting to like that…

Regina forced Emma's face to Helena's, and Emma had time to catch a glimpse of Regina's smile before they were kissing, Regina fucking her in the ass, Helena getting the cowgirl treatment from Myka. As Emma felt Regina's hand taper off her hair and trail down her back, almost lovingly, she began to come, knowing she wasn't the only one. Above her, Regina gasped in orgasm, recovering just enough to meet Myka's eyes as the brunette bounced atop her own lover.

"Enjoying Storybrooke?" the mayor asked with a wide smile.

* * *

Myka and Helena gazed into each other's eyes. It wasn't the first time they'd stared at each other so lovingly, but this was the first time they'd rested on such fine pillows. Regina's breasts cushioned their heads, seeming to massage them gently with each breath they took. Emma had been somewhat dissatisfied by the Warehouse agents claiming such fine real estate, but by lining on the bed at a tangent to the three, she could rest her head against Regina's and steal her lips for a quick kiss now and then. And Regina could reach out and grip her upturned ass, which she did, frequently. Emma thought she was being compared to Myka and Helena's offerings. The fact that Regina had nothing to say about her lacking in that department spoke volumes.

"Hey, Regina?" She spoke softly into Regina's cheek, so as not to wake the other two, who she thought had drifted off.

"Yes?"

"Now that we've had a foursome, how about a date?"

"Would we have to hold hands?" Regina teased.

"Definitely."

"I'll consider it. I don't think I should be making any rash decisions in my current condition." Regina yawned. "I really should've gotten to bed by now. I keep to a very strict sleep schedule. I'm being very naughty."

Emma rolled her eyes. "Yeah, Reggie, you really cut loose."

"Some of us don't sleep until noon, Sheriff."

"Aurora does!"

"You're literally going to bring up Sleeping—" Regina yawned again. "I simply must adhere to my sleep cycle. Bad enough I'm sleeping on one of Granny's lump-ridden excuses for a cot instead of getting the proper head and back support—"

Emma struggled to contain a giggle. Regina sighed.

"Just be sure to wake me when our two friends are done using me as a mattress."

"Don't you mean waterbed? You know, cuz you're retaining—"

Regina goosed Emma quickly. "There are less pleasant things I could do to your ass, Emma dear."

"Yeah, I have a feeling I'm going to be finding out about that. Why do you want to wake up with Rizzoli and Isles here? Don't tell me you're still in the mood."

"I'm not _you, _Ms. Swan. I simply want to bake them some delicious apple pies for the road."

"Some warm, gooey apple pies?"

"Yes, Ms. Swan."

"So tasty and scrumptious you just want to lick your plate?"

"I take it you'd like your own?"

"Yes, Regina, I would like to taste your pie. Would you mind baking me one with cherries, or are you out of those?"

Regina's uncomprehending look turned into a slow smile. "Perhaps you could lend me some. Tell me, Emma, have you ever taken a big, moist piece of fruit between your fingers and squeezed it, harder and harder, until it simply—squirts?"

"No—but I've seen some videos of it online."

"Good." Regina patted her cheek. "You can watch them while I get my eight hours of sleep."

As Regina closed her eyes, Emma heard Helena's gentle laughter.

"Shut up, you're British. You guys can't even give us good pop stars anymore." She swiveled to Myka. "That goes for you too, Canada."

"I'm American."

"Sure you are."


End file.
